ᴄʟᴜᴍsʏ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ✧๛ · Y/n story by @xo

The September air coming off the Black Lake carried the mingled scents of damp stone, fresh parchment, and expensive cologne. The Hogwarts entrance hall buzzed with the chaos of returning students—trunks levitating, owls hooting, first-years being herded toward the boats like lost sheep.

Mattheo Riddle

leaning against the balustrade, scrolling through his phone Saw three first-years already crying. That's a new record.

Theodore Nott

There's a betting pool on how many make it to the boats without getting lost.

Mattheo Riddle

What're the odds?

Theodore Nott

deadpan Not in your favor. You said thirteen. I said nine. Draco's going with six and a half.

Mattheo Riddle

Who bets a half?

Lorenzo wasn't listening. He wasn't even trying to listen. His gaze had snagged on something—someone—across the hall, and his brain had decided to file a formal resignation.

???

laughing, somewhere in the Hufflepuff crowd No, Justin, I'm serious—what if the Sorting Hat just shouts NO and tosses itself into the lake?

Justin Finch-Fletchley

That's not how it works and you know it.

The laugh cut through the noise like sunlight through fog. Clear, warm, effortless.

Lorenzo Berkshire

smacking into the stone pillar with an audible thud —

Theodore Nott

glancing up from his phone …Did you just walk into a wall?

The corridor nearest them went quiet. A few passing students slowed down, watching.

Lorenzo Berkshire

straightening his jacket, face carefully blank I didn't walk into it.

Mattheo Riddle

pocketing his phone, expression gleeful Ah yes. The castle moved.

???

from across the hall, looking up at the commotion

Dark eyes met hers across the distance. Brief. Accidental. Catastrophic.

Mattheo Riddle

tilting his head, slow smirk spreading Oh, this is going to be fun.